


Visor or No Visor

by Thealien



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Condoms, Established Relationship, F/M, Penis In Vagina Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:53:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24619399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thealien/pseuds/Thealien
Summary: Garrus is trying to enjoy a nice relaxing evening with his girlfriend, but she won't stop staring at him.Established relationship, PWPContent warning: Casual wine drinking, but no one is drunk or tipsy.
Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Comments: 6
Kudos: 58





	Visor or No Visor

The room was a bit cool, but not cold. The fish tank bubbled quietly and casted a gentle blue light down while the many lamps glowed from around the room, providing soft light, an incredibly pleasant contrast to the florescent lights throughout the rest of the Normandy. The space hamster, Screech, was either asleep or dead; it had finally stopped squeaking at him and he did not care why. His armchair was plush yet firm and the schematics on his datapad were brilliant. A glass of the finest dextro/levo neutral wine sat next to him and his beautiful Commander, and girlfriend, was working on her omni-tool. All in all, a perfect evening. 

Or it would be, if aforementioned girlfriend/Commander would go back to working on her omni-tool and stop watching at him. At least ten minutes ago, she had frowned, sighed, and looked up. The sigh warranted a glance away from his own datapad but she had smiled, indicating that it wasn’t anything important. But once he looked back down, her smile had faded and the brief look-over she gave him turned into a long stare. The stare was quite intent, in fact; intent in a way that made him wonder if he were about to burst into flames. Or if she were about to pull out a pistol and shoot him. Or eat him. It was an impressively focused stare, one the told of thoughtfulness and extreme contemplation, and it was very distracting. And somewhat worrisome.

As ten minutes slowly crawled to fifteen, and he found himself re-reading the same line of the schematic for the fourth time, Garrus lost his patience and looked up.

“So, did I catch on fire and not notice or are you about to shoot me?” He asked, finally, and she blinked in surprise.

“Neither? Why do you ask?” She appeared startled and he shook his head, lowering his datapad to his lap.

“You’ve been staring at me for fifteen minutes with a gaze that could bore through a Reaper. Am I particularly handsome right now? You could take pictures, maybe get a few nice holos made. For when you’re missing me next.” Shepard rolled her eyes.

“I’m not staring, I was thinking. And I’ve got you around enough, I think. You live on my ship, you sleep in my cabin, I take you on every mission… I don’t think missing you is a worry.”

“You never know. Maybe one day, eventually, you’ll stop dragging me on every run you make. Or at least you’ll stop taking me to places like Noveria, turians-”

“Don’t like the cold. I know, Garrus, I know. You only tell me every time a stiff breeze blows in or I forget that my rooms aren’t allowed to be anything less than tropical.” Her tone was teasing and she smiled as she spoke.

“Well, you know, with a holo of me, you won’t have to worry about missing me on those missions. And I can stay here, nice and warm, and wait for you.”

“As tempting as having you waiting for me in a warm bed after freezing my ass on some frozen planet, I need you out there with me. I rather like having someone I trust at my back.” Garrus grumbled and she shifted in her seat, glancing down at her omni-tool with a frown.

“What were you thinking so hard about?” He asked after a few minutes, watching her fiddle with the instrument.

“Hmm? Oh, nothing life-threatening.” She said slowly and Garrus picked up his glass, sipping it slowly while he considered her nonchalance.

“But interesting enough to burn your eyes through my face? For fifteen minutes, no less?” She glanced up, a light flush on her cheeks, and he tilted his head, intrigued.

“Visors. I was just thinking about visors.” Shepard answered casually, tapping quickly.

His visor registered a slight raise to her external temperature, as well as her heart-rate, and he hummed in thought. He wouldn’t normally wear it outside of missions, but the schematic was from the Asari and he needed the translator. Not to mention how miniscule the script was. Her gaze, flickering briefly to his face, returned to her work with clear relief.

“What about visors?” He asked, watching her vitals return to normal after a few moments.

“What about them?” She asked, in the same overly relaxed tone, and Garrus snorted.

“It’s a good thing you’re one of the good guys, Shepard. You are a terrible actress.”

“I was just thinking about how… useful they are. Nothing important.” She replied, tense. “And I’m a great actress.”

“I don’t know which is worse, your acting or your dancing.” Garrus said, shaking his head and setting both the datapad and the glass on the table next to him.

Shepard glared half-heartedly and shut down her omni-tool.

“I was looking over the specs of different visors. Some improve firing accuracy, others record data, there’s hundreds of them.” She said finally and he nodded.

“And what does reviewing the advantages of visors have to do with my face?” He asked and watched as her heart-rate, as expected, started to rise.

“I- Your visor can detect minute changes in the physiology of all known species.” He inclined his head. “It’s top of the line; it has translators, magnifiers, it can take pictures…”

“I remember what it can do; I am wearing it right now, Shepard.” He let his subvocals drop, adding a rumble to his voice, and her vitals continued to rise as her eyes narrowed and her cheeks colored. “You’re looking flushed, Shepard. Would you like some more wine?”

A twist of a smile, that dangerous one that always preceded her running, screaming, towards a horde of enemies, suddenly played at her lips before she raised her own glass in silent toast at him. She took a long drink, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips and he shifted in his seat, wondering what he just unleashed onto himself.

“If you’re that interested, I was trying to decide how I like you better. Visor on or visor off.” She said, smoothing invisible wrinkles on her pants after replacing her glass on the table.

“Is that so?” He asked, resting an arm on the chair, other hand gesturing in the air. “And what did you decide?”

She stood up, the intent look on her face back, and Garrus resisted the urge to swallow as she stalked towards him. He leaned back in the chair as she leaned forward, left hand propping her up on the back of the armchair next to his head, right hand cupping his mandible, fingers idly rubbing the tough plating.

The visor continued feeding him data—elevated temperature, increased blood flow to extremities, increased heart and breath rates—but he focused on her face, inches away from his own.

“It’s a tough call, Garrus. One little stripe of tech but by god does it change your face.” She breathed. “Visor on, you’re mysterious—who knows what information you’re getting? I can’t keep a secret from you as is but I especially can’t with that little thing giving the game away. A battle master, a strategist, someone to conquer… Someone who might even win.”

“‘Might’ win?” He objected but she interrupted him, sliding up and pressing her lips against his mouth-plates.

He flicked his tongue out and she opened her mouth, groaning as he twined his tongue around hers in a facsimile of a kiss. He reached out and grasped her waist, meaning to pull her onto his lap, but she slipped away. He growled in disapproval as she left and she smirked, waving his visor at him as she stood up.

“Without the visor, you’re Garrus. Understandable, dependable, and the man I trust with everything, including my life. The first nonhuman I took to my bed and the only one I’d ever even consider a relationship with.” Her eyes had softened as she looked at him. “Of course, the visor doesn’t actually change you, but…”

She glanced down at the visor in her hands and back at his face before shrugging.

“So you like the visor, then?” Garrus asked, finding his voice again. “Explains why you’re so… eager, after missions. I just figured you were just part krogan.” She chuckled, holding the visor up and examining the thin black metal from every angle.

“I do enjoy some nice stress relief after a good battle, but looking back during a battle to see you sighting down some mech in these? It’s a wonder I don’t shove you into every closet or abandoned room we find.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed, next time. On the other hand, our companions might find the experience… unsettling.” She chuckled, finally sliding the visor on with a smile.

“Any difference?” Shepard asked, mildly overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of data. “Wow, you really do get a lot from this thing.” She turned back to him and he stared, mouth open wide, for a turian that is. “Hey, you’re body is... glowing. That’s a heat map, isn’t it? And your heart rate…”

“We… should get you one of those.” Garrus said and she tilted her head, amused.

“Maybe I’ll get a pair, next time we hit up the Citadel… Heh, taking out enemies with these? It’d be easy when I can just read their heat signatures. Not that it was difficult before, but I’ll never be surprised again.”

He stood up suddenly and she blinked as he pushed forward, shoving her bodily into the fish tank. She gasped at the cold glass against her thin shirt and he pinned her, an arm on either side.

“First stop, next time we’re nearby.” He growled and she smirked, wrapping her arms around his waist, tickling the sensitive plates.

“We’ll go tomorrow, if you like them that much. I’ve got some business there anyways.”

Shepard gasped as he unexpectedly lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist automatically. Garrus’s subvocals voiced his approval, rumbling through his chest and he licked her neck up to her earlobe, gently nipping it.

“On planet. Buy them. Return immediately.” He punctuated with sharp bites and her head lolled to the side, hands trailing down his torso to grasp the hem of his shirt.

“Whatever you want.” She replied, tugging uselessly. “My kingdom for some nudity right now, Garrus.”

He didn’t answer, just shoved her against the tank harder, hands finding her ass and gripping tightly.

“Don’t hurt my fish.” She admonished, giving up on the shirt and trying to reach his pants.

Shepard grabbed the fastener tugging it down and shuffling her legs in an attempt to encourage gravity to do the work for her. Luck was with her and his pants fell to the ground while he continued laving her neck, one hand trying to force its way into her pants. He ground against her, making her hands stutter over his waist while they searched for his pelvic plates.

“This would be easier if I wasn’t wearing pants.” She grumbled into the side of his face.

“Stop talking, Shepard.” He growled, suddenly pulling them away from the tank.

He carried her to the bed, pausing to kick off his pants fully, and then dropped her onto the plush mattress. She tugged off her nightshirt immediately, tossing it towards the laundry bin, and started shimmying out of her pants while he shrugged off his shirt. Sharp blue eyes stared at her hungrily for a moment and her mouth went dry, ignoring the data flooding her right eye in favor of savoring the predatory pose of the turian in front of her.

“You gonna stand there and stare or do so-” She started, hooking a finger into the side of her panties to pull them off but he surged forward, clasping her hand to her side and forcibly pressing his mouth-plates against her lips again.

She grinned before returning the kiss and it broke mere seconds later, so she started nibbling up the side of his mandible, pressing a kiss to his scars. His talons scratched the sensitive skin of her hip as they took her hand, pulling it up to press it into the mattress. She returned to his mouth-plates, dragging him into a much longer kiss.

He hummed, pleased, and his free hand trailed sharp talons down her side to hold her hip bone, rubbing small circles. The fingers of his other hand interlocked with hers and she squeezed his hand.

Garrus pulled away from her lips, gently bonking foreheads at her unhappy whine, and then slid down her body. She gasped as his raspy tongue twirled around a nipple, mandibles pressing into her abdomen. Shepard’s right hand found his fringe and traced the edge of a spike, stroking down the long side. His subvocals vibrated through his chest and she groaned as his left hand snuck its way under her panties, talons gently tracing the soft skin.

“Garr _usss_ …” She complained as he pulled off one breast to move to the other, hot breath ghosting on it before lavishing it with the same attention.

With an amused chuckle, he twisted slightly to free his hand enough to ever so gently slip a finger inside. She gasped, knowing he would never be careless with his talons but the possibility sending a thrill through her. He moved with purpose throughout her damp folds, slowly pushing in and sliding out, while his thumb found her clitoris and made a wide berth, drawing circles around the hood. Her hips jerked with every movement, aching to be touched properly, and she moaned as he nipped, carefully, at her nipple.

“I’m… going to kill… You.” She gasped out, trying to keep herself from tightening her grip too much on his sensitive fringe.

Her fingers fluttered over the smooth and flexible plates that made up the ‘feathers’ of his fringe while her hand squeezed his, encouraging his attentions. Garrus finally skirted closer to her clit, sliding the pad of his finger against it, before returning to circling. He alternated between teasing circles and too-brief contact, making her hips jerk and buck with the unpredictability and her writhe with over-stimulation.

“Fuc- Garrus. Now. You bastard. Glorious bastard.” She growled as he slowed his thumb and lightened the already barely-there pressure.

“Now what, Shepard?” He hissed back, subvocals deepening his voice and she groaned with desire and irritation.

“Let me come or roll over so I can do it myself, you goddam-”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence as he deliberately pressed his thumb back in, rubbing directly above her clit roughly before darting down for a gentle stroke and repeating. She moaned, gripping his fist almost too tightly and he slithered back up her body to trace her earlobe with his tongue.

“Is this better, Commander?” He whispered and she half-laughed, half-moaned in response, twisting her head to press an open-mouthed kiss to his mandible.

With a turian smile, he sped up his ministrations, spending more time tracing patterns over her clit and less time around, and he felt her inner walls start to flutter around his finger as he pumped it in and out of her. He felt her tighten and nipped her lips gently with his mandible as she came with a cry, his name a breathy whisper.

He pulled away slowly, watching her come back down and seeing the slight sheen of sweat at her brow. She opened her eyes, blinking, and then smiled languidly. Pressing upwards against his chest, a deceptively gentle hand pushing him to roll off her and onto his back.

“Sit up, I want to try something.” She murmured.

“Why am I afraid?” He answered.

Garrus did so anyways, leaning against the headboard of the bed, with his knees bent to keep his spurs from wrecking the bed. She took a moment to rip off the panties, tossing them after her shirt, and then settled into his lap, smiling while he looked at her hungrily. His pelvic plates had already shifted, his cock flushed with blue and standing proud between them. Shepard took him in hand, eyes on his face as his head fell back, and squeezed.

“God, you’re gorgeous.” She muttered, stroking him almost absentmindedly, spreading around his pre-come, as he keened, a pleasured noise.

She leaned off him for a moment, reaching for the nightstand’s drawer to snag a turian condom. He watched her, lust darkening his eyes, hands on her waist, as she ripped the packet open and slid it over his cock, a faint hiss escaping him at the cool lubricant. Pressing her forehead against his, eyes lidded, she slowly sank down onto his thick cock, whimpering as its many ridges pressed against her.

He watched her face, growling subvocals rumbling their bodies, and his grip on her waist tightened to the edge of painful. The visor still showed information about his heart rate (sky rocketing) and his body temperature (also high but she could tell that herself), but Shepard had long past paying attention to its readings. Her hands braced her on his shoulders, thumbs caressing his cowl as she lifted herself up again and he met her on the re-entry, thrusting upwards to match her downward press.

“Still… afraid?” She gasped out and he groaned, a taloned hand scraping down her back.

“You’re brilliant. Especially if you don’t stop.” He grit out as she sped up, leaning forward to lick his mouth-plates and tempt him into their version of a kiss.

He acquiesced immediately, twining their tongues together, and she twisted on her next descent and he swore.

“Spirits, Shepard.” Garrus hissed at her, the hand that had been scratching her back flying to her hair and tugging it, talons nicking her scalp.

Her only reaction was to do it again, and again, and he lost control of his thrusting. His hips bucked upwards and she groaned into his mandible, his chest vibrating with the approving subvocals.

“Shep-ard.” He panted out, in warning and she pressed kisses into his scars, one hand leaving his shoulder to scratch down his fringe.

Garrus came with a muffled shout, his body shaking with intensity, and Shepard whimpered as his hands gripped her hair and waist just a bit too tight. She pulled off slowly, legs trembling with effort, and fell back against him. Tiredly, she carefully slid the used condom off of his now-softening cock and tied the knot, leaning off the bed to drop it in the incinerator trashcan next to the bed. Spent, she collapsed against his warm body, snuggling close to him, and he drew his arms against her. They were silent for several minutes, catching their breath.

“So… visors.” He said and she hummed, eyes shut.

“I’m putting in a requisition order before breakfast. Unless you think you can hold yourself together to watch me try them on at the store?” She asked, a tinge of hope in her voice, and he chuckled weakly.

“You attacked me first. But I can handle it… as long as we return to the cabin immediately.” Shepard sighed, content, as he moved his hand through her hair.

“I think I can manage that.”


End file.
